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Married Before Midnight - Married Before Midnight by Sienna Quinn - Chapter 75

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Married Before Midnight


Chapter 75: Married Before Midnight


The morning of Olivia Carter’s wedding dawned bright and golden, the kind of day that felt like it had been plucked straight from a fairy tale. Sunlight streamed through the lace curtains of her childhood bedroom, casting delicate patterns over the ivory silk of her wedding gown, which lay draped across her bed like a promise. Olivia stood in front of the mirror, her fingers trembling as she traced the delicate embroidery along the bodice. Today, I marry Mason Lee. The thought sent a thrill through her, warm and effervescent. She had spent months planning this day—choosing the perfect flowers, tasting cakes until her sisters groaned in protest, rehearsing her vows until they were etched into her heart.


And now, it was here. A soft knock at the door pulled her from her thoughts. "Liv?" Hannah’s voice was gentle as she peeked inside, her eyes already shimmering with unshed tears. "Mom’s downstairs with the twins. They’re finishing the final touches on your bouquet." Olivia exhaled, her chest tight with emotion. "I can’t believe it’s happening." Hannah stepped forward, smoothing a loose curl behind Olivia’s ear. "You look… breathtaking." Olivia laughed, blinking back tears. "I haven’t even put the dress on yet." "You could wear a potato sack and still outshine every bride in Maplewood." The door burst open before Olivia could reply, and Charlotte, Lillian, and Emily tumbled in, their arms laden with ribbons, jewelry, and a half-eaten croissant that Emily was determined to finish before the ceremony. "Okay, bride-to-be," Charlotte announced, clapping her hands. "Time to get you into that dress before Mom has a heart attack."


The next hour was a whirlwind of laughter, last-minute stitching, and too much hairspray. Eleanor Carter, her hands still dusted with flour from the morning’s baking, fastened the pearl buttons at the back of Olivia’s gown with trembling fingers. "My little girl," she whispered, pressing a kiss to Olivia’s temple. "Your father would be so proud." Olivia swallowed hard, squeezing her mother’s hand. By the time they arrived at the cathedral, Olivia’s heart was a hummingbird trapped in her ribs. The guests were already seated, the soft murmur of voices blending with the organ’s melody. She clutched her bouquet of white roses and baby’s breath, her pulse racing as she waited for her cue. And then she saw them. Mason and Vince stood near the side entrance, partially hidden by a marble pillar. Vince’s expression was sharp, his grip tight on Mason’s arm as he spoke in low, urgent tones.


Mason’s face was pale, his jaw clenched. Olivia’s stomach twisted. She shouldn’t eavesdrop. She knew she shouldn’t. But something—some instinct—pulled her closer, her satin heels silent against the stone floor. "—just go through with it," Vince hissed. "You sign the papers, get the money, and we’re done. No more debts, no more threats." Mason shook his head. "I can’t." "You can," Vince snapped. "Or do you want those collectors breaking more than just your kneecaps next time?" Olivia’s breath caught. Money? Debts? Mason’s voice was raw. "I love her, Vince. I won’t do it." The words hit Olivia like a physical blow. Her vision blurred, the bouquet slipping from her fingers. Before she could react, two men in black suits materialized from the shadows, their grips viselike as they seized Mason and Vince. "Time’s up, Lee," one growled, shoving them toward the exit. Olivia didn’t think. She ran. Lifting her skirts, she chased the black car through the streets of Maplewood, her heart pounding as she flagged down a taxi. "Follow that car!" The warehouse on the outskirts of the city was dilapidated, its windows boarded up, the air thick with the scent of rust and damp wood. Olivia crept inside, her pulse roaring in her ears. The scene before her made her stomach lurch. Mason was on his knees, his lip split, his hands bound behind his back. One of the men cracked his knuckles. "Last chance. You getting that money or not?" Mason lifted his head, blood trickling from his brow. "Go to hell." The man raised his fist— "No!" Olivia screamed, launching forward. Silence. All eyes turned to her. Mason’s face drained of color. "Olivia—" The men exchanged glances, then laughed. "Well, well. The bride’s here to save the day."


Olivia didn’t flinch. "Let him go." "Or what?" She reached into her small beaded purse—the one Charlotte had insisted she carry—and pulled out her phone. "Or I call the police and tell them about the illegal gambling ring you’re running out of the back of Thompson’s Bakery." The men froze. One snarled, stepping toward her, but the other grabbed his arm. "Not worth it. Let’s go." They vanished into the night, leaving Olivia and Mason alone in the dim light. She rushed to him, her fingers fumbling with the ropes. "You idiot," she choked out. "You liar." Mason’s eyes were wet. "I’m so sorry." She yanked the last knot free. "You were going to take my money." "I was," he admitted hoarsely. "But then I fell in love with you. And I couldn’t do it." Olivia stared at him, her chest aching.


Outside, the distant chime of a church bell echoed. Mason swallowed hard. "It’s almost midnight." She knew what he meant. Their wedding day—the one she had dreamed of—was slipping away. Without a word, she grabbed his hand. "Then let’s get married." They ran. The tiny church on the edge of town was empty save for an elderly pastor, who blinked in surprise as a disheveled groom and a bride in a mud-streaked gown burst through the doors. "Please," Olivia gasped. "Marry us. Before midnight." The pastor hesitated only a moment before smiling. "Well. I’ve never seen a more determined couple." And as the clock struck twelve, Mason Lee kissed his wife—his wife—for the first time.